


The Ballad of Paladin

by jolimelon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Background Character Death, Established Relationship, Gen, Horror, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Adoptive Siblings, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Siblings, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Post-Apocalypse, Zombie Apocalypse, background klance, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-01-13 13:43:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolimelon/pseuds/jolimelon
Summary: While Shiro is on a flight overseas, the sudden outbreak of a zombie virus puts the entire world at a halt. Now, he'll do anything he can to get home to his fiance, Adam, and younger brother, Keith. During his journey, he runs into the young and spirited Lance, who is eager to help him achieve his goals. Together, they make the dangerous journey to Shiro's hometown before it's too late.





	1. A Promise to Adam on the Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Some things to note before you start this fic:  
> -Yes, there will be some dark themes since this is a zombie fic, but I'm not planning to make it over-the-top angst, and don't plan to kill off any main characters.  
> -It will have a happy ending.  
> -The only ships will be adashi, and klance. Every other relationship explored will be purely platonic. (Please respect this in the comments, and don't ask for anything else to be made canon).  
> -As per the summary, adashi are a great length apart from each other for the beginning of the story but I plan to add in plenty of flashbacks to make the wait until their reunion more bearable!  
> -I hope this eases some worries! Feel free to ask any questions if you have any! 
> 
> Without any further ado, please enjoy this fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> -Mentions of death (get used to that one if ya stick around)  
> -Plane crash

_We want to be honest with you-_

_And it’s not easy for us to say this,_

_But there is a chance- just a chance, really, it’s not certain- that you won’t be able to grow up and... get older. Do you understand what we mean?_

The heavy weight of Shiro’s eyelids made them nearly impossible to open as he forced himself to sit upright. The sun was beating down on him with such power that it was almost too painful to bare. His entire body was sluggish, and yet, his mind remained awake with a plaguing memory from his past. 

_“I know,” a child's voice had answered, “I’m dying.”_

Despite the fact that the odds were never in his favour during the early years of his life, Shiro now found himself laying alone in a barren field, alive and as well as he could be given the circumstances, at age twenty-eight. 

_Somehow. Someway. You'll always defy the odds._

To his very distant right was, the discarded remains of an airline plane, dented in the front with plumes of smoke exiting the engine. It was distant enough that it was no cause of concern for his well-being, but he knew that he had just had a startlingly close encounter with death that would leave him shook up for some time.

If luck were a thing then Shiro could consider himself to be the most horrifically lucky man in the world. 

Perhaps he was even the last.

* * *

**Apocalypse Day 192.**

* * *

Forcing himself to stand to his feet didn’t come easy for Shiro. His entire body was raw with crippling pain and fatigue like never before. He untangled bits of leafs and branches from his torso and discarded them to the side, taking extra time to pick out the slivers piercing through his pant leg and into his skin. 

He had just experienced a fleeting brush with death- it wasn't his first, and he supposed it wouldn't be his last- when the plane he was piloting had suddenly found itself plunging to the ground. Only at the last moment did he manage to retrieve the helm and narrowly avoid a violent death, but his landing was still far from smooth. He'd found himself in the middle of unfamiliar land, greeted only by the mounds of trees that his plane has crushed to the ground. Weaving his way through on foot had been no easy accomplishment, and he had obtained more injury due to nature rather than the crash. When he had finally stepped foot on the sweet plains of open field, he fell to his knees in pure bliss and rested on the ground.

Now, he stood, free of debris, patting his pockets to ensure that what little he carried with him was still safely within his possession. He sighed a breath of relief upon feeling the usual bulge in his pocket left by his wallet.

Then, he held his hand up to the light of the sun and ensured that his finger was still properly dressed with his most prized possession of all- his engagement ring. The sun reflected off of the silver band and nearly blinded him for a moment, but he could only feel relief knowing that it was still with him. Safe and sound, much like he hoped the giver of it was.

Shiro knew that he still had a long journey ahead of him- nothing in his life had ever come easy and it never would- so he braced himself, took a deep breath, cracked the tightened joints in his body, and stretched out each limb for as long as he could bare it. Then, with no particular idea of where he was heading, he began to walk. 

He walked. 

And he walked.

He took a short break.

And he walked some more. 

His hair had grown long over the course of the apocalypse, longer than it had ever been before. It reached his collarbone in length, though it was so tangled and greasy that he could only assume that it would be longer had it been properly cared for. He felt beads of sweating trickling down the back of his neck but he had no way to tie his hair, leaving him no choice but to bare the discomfort for the time being. 

What bothered him more was the dryness of his throat that left his tongue feeling like a sheet of sandpaper was being dragged across it. No matter how hard he tried to swallow back his saliva, his attempts were in vain- painfully so.

Eventually, a distant farmhouse came into sight, but before that, Shiro’s attention was captured by the abundance of crops that surrounded it. All of which were growing large, round tomatoes in full bloom, the vibrant redness of them visible from a good distance. He held his breath for a moment, wondering if such luck was too good to be true. He hadn’t eaten for days, and though he had never cared for tomatoes, suddenly they had become the most beautiful sight in the world. 

He grasped onto the first one that he saw, no time or care for a quality check. He felt an animalistic instinct take over his body as he shoved it into his mouth, devouring it more viciously than he had ever eaten anything in his life. Before his mind could fully process what he was doing, both hands became occupied with grabbing more in a desperate attempt to ease the hunger and thirst that pained his body more greatly than any injury he had obtained. 

After the third, he obtained the willpower to stop himself and wipe the corners of his mouth clean, catching his breath in the meantime. He still felt pangs of hunger deep within his stomach with a sickly sore throat to accompany it, but he knew he had to pace himself or else a greater pain would befall him later on. 

He allowed himself to sit then, giving his swollen calves some overdue rest. He held another ripened tomato in his hands but this time, he slowly nibbled at it despite wanting to shove it into his mouth all at once. 

Like a sweet sensation he had taken for granted long ago, moisture gradually returned to Shiro's mouth, the pain slowly but surely subsiding. A small yet pleasant victory. 

After he was content with his tomato binge, Shiro stood to his feet and continued his journey, his focus solely dedicated on the property's farm house. There were no cars nearby, and the windows were all covered with tarps and boards, but he knew better than to let his guard down. People, living or dead, could be hidden around any corner, crouching beneath the crops, waiting for the chance to attack.

He wouldn't dream of entering the house empty handed, and managed to find a discarded wood board at the side of the house. The ends were stained with a rustic red, fully evident to the fact that he wouldn’t be the first to use it as a weapon of choice. 

He entered the house slowly, board firmly in both hands. The door creaked eerily as he peeked into the home. It was well-lit thanks to the beaming of the sunlight, allowing him to pick up many details at a quick glance. The most glaring being that the house appeared to be lived in- whether that was currently, or recently, he didn't know. And so, he continued to survey each room with upmost caution until he eventually reached the last. 

The final room- an attic space accessible only by a pull down set of stairs from the roof- interested him almost immediately. It was the smallest of the rooms, and occupied mostly by storage bins. There was a bed in the center, and the walls were plastered with photographs of both male and female models. Magazine clippings, Shiro suspected, though he’d never been the type to sit long enough to read one. 

Aside from a clutter of dirty laundry in the corner, the room was just as tidy as the rest of the bedrooms had been. The bed was made with sheets of blue and white, tucked in carefully at each corner, but the pillowcases were still rustled as if recently slept on. Judging by first impressions, it hadn’t been long since somebody had lived there. 

It was ominous in a sense, the complete stillness of the house, how despite having signs of being lived in, there was not a single warm body present. It was as if everybody had suddenly vacated the premise without any time to bring much with them. Whether it was due to a threat brought on by the living or the dead, Shiro didn't know. He had no way to know. Either way, they seemed to have made a clear get away, with no trails of blood and gore following behind them. He didn't want to make any dangerous assumptions just yet, but he didn't feel a particular threat to his safety for the time being.

In silent contemplation, Shiro took a seat on the edge of the bed, his body sinking into the mattress, a comfort he hadn’t felt in nearly half a year. His exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him, and he knew that he was in no shape to combat it, try as he may. He laid back, his body sinking into the mattress, and pressed his cheek against the rustled cases of the pillows. They smelled pleasant- like fresh linen hanging off of a clothing line on a midsummer's afternoon. 

With the intention to only rest his eyes for a few moments, Shiro immediately fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

**On the eve of the Apocalypse.**

* * *

“I can only spare ten more minutes before I’m going to be late,” Shiro said, a hint of laughter on his breath.

A hand was tightly clasped onto his shoulder, and a pair of lips hovered only inches from his. 

“It’s not like the plane can take off without you,” A man’s voice said, “So let me enjoy my ten minutes with you.” 

They sat in the front of a car parked in the airport parking lot. Shiro in the passengers seat, and the other man in the drivers seat, though they were so tightly clung to each other that it didn’t much matter. 

The other man had softly coloured brown hair that was short and ended in rounded curls that fell across his forehead and draped down the sides of his face. He wore glasses with a black half-frame that suited his heart-shaped face well. 

“I appreciate the ride today, Adam.” Shiro said.

Adam smiled softly, the vaguest hint of a dimple appearing on his cheek. “Of course,” he replied, “I always miss you when you’re off on your long flights. I have to enjoy you while I can.”

“I’ll miss you, too. But I’ll be back before you know it. I always am.” 

Adam averted his gaze with a quiet hum, as if suggesting that he wasn't fully convinced. “Hmm, maybe.”

Shiro laughed quietly, his hand slipping beneath Adam’s chin as he brought his face towards his with a playful smirk. 

“Come here,” Shiro teased as his lips left lingering strokes across Adam’s, who knew that he could not resist for long. 

It wasn’t long before their lips were locking with each other’s, grips against clothing tightening until Adam was sure he was leaving permanent wrinkles on poor Shiro’s uniform. 

Adam slipped his hand around the nape of Shiro’s neck, mindlessly twirling locks of overgrown hair in the spaces between his fingers. He had been growing it longer than usual, and as much as Adam teased him about it, he couldn’t resist running his hands through it while he had the chance.

As they pulled apart from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connected their lips until Adam wiped it away, his other hand still preoccupied with Shiro’s hair. 

“It’s getting so long,” Adam fould himself commenting absently. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll cut it before the wedding.” Shiro assured him. 

Adam smiled, scrunching up his nose slightly as he did so. “I didn’t say it was bad. You look really cute.”

As he leaned in again, Shiro kissed Adam once more, unable to resist him as much as vice versa. Adam returned it, though briefly, before he pulled away.

“However, I’m not lying when I say you kind of look like one of my Norwegian exchange students and it really messes with my mind.” 

“Okay, okay, don’t worry. I’ll be cutting my hair when I get home. No more _Sven._ ” 

“You will?”

“Ja, min kjære.” 

Adam playfully shoved Shiro’s shoulder, “Takashi, you are the only fiancé in the world who would learn Norwegian just to mess with your partner.”

Shiro snickered to himself, feeling a sense of accomplishment each time he managed to tease Adam until his ears were red- but he never dared to take it any further. 

“That’s the only phrase I learned, in all fairness.” 

“What does it mean?” 

“ _Yes, my dear._ ”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up as his smile warmed and he eased deeper into Shiro’s arms until he physically couldn't get any closer.

“Oh. Well, then, that’s all you really need to know, isn’t it?”

Shiro wrapped his arms around Adam's back and kissed the top of his head. Checking his watch, he realized he only had a few moments left, but he didn’t want to let go just yet. 

They remained in that position, warm and comfortable, until there was no longer any time left, and hesitantly, Shiro had to pull away.

“One more for the road?” he asked, tapping away at his chin with the tip of his index finger. 

Adam was quick to comply with his request, planting the sweetest, softest kiss that he could muster onto his lips, making it all the harder to pull away from. 

“Promise me you’ll be careful?” Adam requested.

“Adam, come on, don’t worry so much.”

“I don’t like the sound of that flu epidemic going on overseas. It sounds like it's more than just a bad strand. People have _died_ because of it, Takashi. I just... I don't want you to get sick. Is that so wrong?"

A sympathetic pang of guilt tore at Shiro's chest. Adam's concern came from the heart, and despite how bothered Shiro could sometimes get over being fretted upon, he knew that he meant well.

“I promise I’ll be careful. I won't be leaving my room until it’s time to fly back, anyway.”

Adam smiled, seemingly content with his response, as he leaned back in, kissing Shiro again. “Good. Call me when you land and have a safe flight. I love you, honey.”

“I’ll be sure to. I love you too.” Shiro replied, cupping Adam's check in his palm before exiting the car. Almost instantly, Adam lowered the car's window, ushering one final warning.

"Oh and tell Sam I said hi. Tell him to be careful, too."

Shiro rested his arm on the top of the car door, his face peering into the opened window. "I'm sure his wife has given him just as much of an earful as you've given me."

With a cocky grin that Shiro knew all too well, Adam shrugged his shoulder, "Looks like you'll have to get used to this sort of spousal nagging when we're married then."

"When we're married? You think I'm not used to it already?"

Adam laughed at that, "Yeah, I guess you would be."

"I should really go now," Shiro said. A quick glance at his watch let him know that he was running a few minutes late already, "But I'll be home before you know it, okay?"

_I promise._


	2. The Gunfighter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry about how long it took me to update this fic! I hope the wait was worth it! Please enjoy!!

Shiro's eyes fluttered open against a heavy light weighing directly onto his face, beating down from a rectangular shaped window in the attic's upper corner. Though it was a small window, the brightness of the sun was showing no mercy, causing Shiro to squint beneath it's power, a dull pain forming at the backs of his eyes. 

The rest of his bodily pains weren't nearly as subtle. His right knee felt inflamed, warm to the touch, and he couldn't even remember a time when his arms weren't burning with the pain of overworked muscles. He'd only been asleep for ten minutes, he assumed, but his body felt as if a truck had run him over, backed up, and run over him once more for good measure. 

He brought his hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, his eyes tightly shut as he let out a low, unintentional groan. Sitting up was no easy feat, but he had eventually managed to do it. 

"No way, are you finally awake?" A sudden, unfamiliar voice speaking was all it took for Shiro to jump back into action, bodily pains be damned, with his plank of wood firmly in his grasp for protection.

The stranger sat in a chair at the end of the bed, (one that Shiro hadn't recalled seeing on his first tour of the room) holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. By all means, he was one of the living, and surprisingly well groomed for the post-apocalyptic world. 

He had dark skin, and full brown hair that was mostly straight with a subtle inward curl at the tips. Based on appearances, he was no more than twenty years of age- a child, around the same age as Shiro's own younger brother. Those observations were more than enough for Shiro to drop his defenses, loosening his grip on the wood plank until it dropped onto the bed top. 

"Woah there, big fella! I come in peace! Since, y'know, this is _my_ room and all!" The kid said, hands slowly lowering as Shiro eased his tensity. "Hey wait- you know what this reminds me of? It’s like goldilocks but like, you’re the bear and you’re sleeping in my bed."

The boy began to laugh at his own joke, leaving Shiro in a state of confusion, blinking several times until he eventually found the words to speak.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I wasn’t even sure if anybody lived here."

"Ah well, it's whatever," the boy replied, shrugging his shoulders in a surprisingly casual manner. "Stranger things are happening these days. I'm just glad you weren't some dead guy, now _that_ would've been a real pain."

"So, the outbreak is happening here too?" Shiro asked. He'd thought about it endlessly, and though he knew it was likely to be a pandemic disease at that point, he'd been hoping for the slightest chance of a miracle. 

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, the kid took a closer look at Shiro, eyes wandering up and down until a light went off in his eyes, and he jumped to his feet in excitement.

"You're the pilot!" He exclaimed. "You're the guy that crashed a plane in the forest, right?!"

Shiro slowly nodded his head.

"Oh man, no way! We assumed the pilot was dead with a crash like that but- you’re the guy whose been asleep in my room this whole time! This is amazing!"

"This whole time?"

"Yeah, it’s been two days already."

Shiro's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "Two days? I’ve been asleep for two days?"

"Heh, yup. I had to fight tooth and nail to make sure my brothers didn’t, y'know," The boy motioned a line across his throat with his thumb, "'Cause everyone was like, ‘this stinky hobo has to be a dead guy, there’s no way he’s alive.’ But I was like ‘Hey lets not be judgy! He smells bad, sure, horrible even- but not like a corpse so lets not just _kill him_.’"

Subtly, Shiro lowered his face to inhale his own scent. Not great, obviously. He hadn’t showered in a long time, hygiene low on his list of priorities during the time being. When he raised his line of vision again, he noted, for the first time, a gun that was securely tucked into the kid's belt. 

It was serious. One false move- one strange snore that sounded like a grunt of the dead, and Shiro could've been shot for safe measure. He swallowed back.

"Thanks, then. I appreciate not being dead."

The kids grinned, laughing quietly. "I can’t believe you’re the pilot. This is seriously cool."

"About the outbreak-"

"Oh right, yeah, I guess you’ve been somewhere else this whole time or something? Everything has really gone to shit here. One day it was the flu and then boom next thing you know everyone and their grandma is out trying to eat the flesh right off your bones."

"The same thing happened where I was." Shiro explained, breathing slowly. "All of the buildings were put on contamination lockdown and nobody was allowed to enter or leave the country. Then it got completely out of hand."

"Yeah, well, a lot of good that did." The boy's tone suddenly became serious. "It wasn’t much later that it started happening here. I’d say it’s pretty much everywhere by now."

Shiro was gutted by the news, his mind immediately thinking of his family, and Adam, in prayer of their wellbeing. _It's fine. They're alive. They're okay. We'll meet again._

"Do the phone lines work?" Shiro asked.

The boy shook his head. "No internet, no phone. We do have some power though, thanks to a back up generator."

"I see."

"Who, uh," he hesitated, "Who would you want to call? You have family here?"

Shiro nodded his head, glancing down at his ring. He reached for his wallet, but was greeted only by an empty pocket. He began to pat himself down in a panic, going as far as to grasp onto the bedsheets and tear them off the bed in pursuit of his last possession in the world.

"Oh, your wallet- I’ve got it here.” The kid said, holding it up in his hand. Shiro narrowed his eyes, so the kid quickly retorted, “Hey, I got pretty bored while you were sleeping in here like you're at a bed and breakfast or something. I wanted to get to know who this random guy in my room was."

The boy tossed the wallet back to Shiro, who managed to catch it against his chest. "Speaking of getting to know each other, I don't know your name."

"Oh, right. How could I forget. My name is..." The boy stood and turned theatrically on his heels, cupping his chin with his thumb and index finger. "Lance McClain, worlds greatest sharpshooter- and not just cause it's the apocalypse and I win by default."

"Right." Shiro commented, scratching his chin. He felt bits of stubble rubbing roughly against the skin of his finger. "My name is Takashi Shirogane, but I'm sure you already saw all of my I.D."

"Uh-huh, sure did. Your pictures, too." Lance chimed, taking a seat back on his chair at the end of the bed. "Cute people, by the way. Who are they? I've been trying to theorize if glasses is your really-close roommate or if you're gay. I prefer the gay theory, cause I've never been friends with a gay pilot before, but it's cool if you're straight too, I guess."

Shiro opened his wallet, mindlessly flipping through the photo insert placed inside. The first photo was of him and Adam, taken on new years eve many years prior. Adam had just gotten his first permanent teaching job, and Shiro had just been promoted at work to head pilot. It was a happy time for both of them, evident in Adam's smile spanning from ear to ear. Shiro was smooching Adam's cheek so fiercely that he could practically still feel the touch of warm skin against his lips. Oh, how he missed that feeling.

"Gay." Shiro replied bluntly.

"I knew it!" Lance exclaimed, pumping his fist, "I knew it!" He paused briefly, "He's not dead, is he? Kinda feel like this would be insensitive if he was."

"No," Shiro answered, "I don't think so. I haven't seen him since before the outbreak."

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," Lance mumbled, his body slumping against the back of the chair. "Where are you guys from?"

"Oriande," Shiro said, "What town are we in now?"

"Altea. So you're a ways off from Oriande. It's around a twenty-four hour trip away."

Shiro continued to flip through his wallet for a silent moment. The insert was full of photos, both old and recent, which he had once been embarrassed by at the risk of looking cheesy, although that feeling has long since vanished. He was grateful for the opportunity to still be able to see the faces of those he loved and cared about.

"What's his name? Your boyfriend?"

"Adam. He's my fiancé. We were supposed to be getting married soon."

"How soon?"

Shiro thought to himself for a moment, "What did you say today was?"

"I didn't say, but it's June twenty-third."

"Oh," Shiro mumbled, staring at the photo for a second longer before closing his wallet and slipping it back into his pocket. "Today, then. We would've been getting married today."

"Let me be the first to congratulate you, then!" Lance stood, clapping his hands together in rapid applause, "Congrats for not sleeping through your wedding day! I'm sure Adam is popping a bottle of champagne and waiting for you to hurry your ass home!"

"It's like you already know him," Shiro joked in a deadpan manner.

"I did have a lot of time to study your photos, after all. I already feel like we're friends with a real understanding of each other, y'know? Except you don't know much about me but hey- just a little obstacle, no biggie. We'll work through it."

Shiro blinked a few times. The kid had way too much personality for him to deal with at present time, while he was still a little groggy from having slept so much.

"You said you had brothers... So you live here with your family? Could I meet the rest of them?"

"Yeah, sure, I've got a huge family. You'll have to meet them eventually. Everyone is pretty curious about who you are. But maybe, before that, you could wash up. We have a shower and you're more than welcome to use it. Honestly, I insist you do."

"I get it, I stink." Shiro grumbled.

"I'm just looking out for you, man. Come on, I'll get you a towel and show you the way."

Lance led the way down the attic stairs and onto the second floor, where their destination was only a few short steps down the hallway. Two small sets of eyes peered out from a crack in the doorway across from the bathroom, no more than an inch wide. Children, likely. Shiro gave them a fleeting smile, and they drew back, shutting the door abruptly. 

"You can borrow one of my brother's clothes," Lance explained, having not taken notice of the antics across the hallway, "They're bigger than me, but it'll probably still be tight on you."

"Yeah? That would be great. I've been stuck in these clothes for far too long."

"Yeah, man," Lance said slowly, hardly able to resist adding, "We all know."

Shiro grimaced at the remark, but he found comfort in knowing that his current state was only temporary. It had been far too long since he had felt the comforting sensation of warm water and soap cleansing his skin, shampoo and conditioner scrubbing the grease from his hair. He'd never felt as dirty as he presently did, especially surrounded by an environment that was surprisingly tidy, as if it were untouched by the apocalypse completely. 

After Lance had led Shiro to the bathroom, he temporarily disappeared for a moment to collect clothing and towels for him. He handed them off with a grin, briefly explaining how to operate the shower, and then, he left Shiro to his own devices. 

The first thing Shiro attempted to do was run the faucet, to make sure that the promises weren't too good to be true. When he saw that water really was running, he practically felt like letting out a sob of joy. 

The next thing he did was simple. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, observing the unrecognizable man that looked back at him. The bags under his eyes were a sickly purple tone, the concave of his cheekbones hardly noticeable beneath all of the stubble. His long hair was separated in big sections that were matted together with grease, and- oh God, was that a grey? At his young age? He held it between his index and middle finger, plucking it straight from the root. 

He tossed the hair into the trash, his line of vision falling upon an electric razor on the counter as he did so. He grabbed it without much thought, and plugged it on. Surely enough, when he flicked the switch, it came to life. 

Shiro let out a faint breath as a grin broke out onto his face. There was no hesitation in his actions as he brought the razor to his face, getting rid of his stubble in one fell swoop. He was never capable of growing much, anyway, but it was nice to get rid of for a clean-shaven look. And he didn't stop there- oh no, he couldn't. He had the chance then to do what he had so long dreamed of; giving himself a far overdue haircut. 

He ran the razor through large patches of his hair, not holding back until he reached the front where he had decided to leave a tuft for aesthetic sake. As he watched his greasy locks falling to the bathroom floor, Shiro felt a sense of liberation falling over him, a simple act of self care that felt nearly rebellious given the world's current state.

But the best part was still yet to come. 

After Shiro tidied up the fallen hair, throwing it promptly into the trash, it was finally time for him to slip out of his blood-stained uniform, and re-introduce himself to the sweet, sweet comfort of a good morning's shower. 

The water was so hot that it bordered on scorching, immediately filling the room with clouds of steam, even going so far as to redden Shiro's shoulders upon contact. But he didn't care. Not one bit. It had been far too long since he'd been in a shower that he would've welcomed any temperature of water. 

He drenched himself in the first body wash that he could find, rubbing suds over every surface of his body, digging his fingernails in to get a truly deep clean. Not an inch of him would remain unwashed, the privilege of showering was too important to go to waste. He scrubbed shampoo into his scalp, the area having gotten so dry and itchy over time that it nearly stung to be washed- but the pain was more than worth the comfort it brought to him; the feeling of a weight being lifted from his body.

After he finished washing everything; his hair, his body, he used the shower head to rinse himself off, and hesitated to turn the water off. He never knew when his next shower would come, but for the time being, he felt content with the state of his body. 

Using the towels that Lance had given him, Shiro ruffled his wet hair until it was only damp, and used the second towel to pat dry the rest of his body. He wiped away a small circle in the steam-coated mirror to catch a look of himself, and felt that the man who looked back at him was finally recognizable- a man that he hadn't seen for a long, long time. 

The clothing from Lance's brothers were simple in style, not that Shiro minded. A white t-shirt, with a flannel button down shirt over top, and a pair of simple blue jeans, was somehow the most fitting outfit for a post-apocalyptic lifestyle. The fit was nice, aside from the jeans that ran a little high on Shiro due to his tall height, but otherwise, the clothing was old, and worn enough that it fit his body comfortably. 

Before exiting the room, he gave his reflection a fleeting smile, no longer feeling like a dead man walking. It gave him a new hope that normalcy wouldn't be as hard to re-obtain as it had felt before. 

When he exited the bathroom, Lance was quick to greet him with a look of complete flabbergast on his face. 

"Woah, check you out!" He grinned, unable to stop staring, particularly at the massive change in hairstyle. "Where'd Cousin Itt go? You actually look human now."

"Yeah, sorry, I borrowed the electric razor in there without asking but I couldn't help myself. Feels good to have gotten rid of all that hair."

"Nah, don't be sorry. It's a good look on you."

"Thanks," Shiro murmured, "So about your family-"

"They're all downstairs ready to meet you." Lance interrupted, "I already explained a bunch so don't worry about getting interrogated too much."

"Oh, alright. Lets get to it, then."

Lance led the way down the stairs, where his entire family awaited Shiro's arrival with bated breath. All conversation had come to a sudden halt, multiples sets of eyes fixated solely on Shiro as if he were an alien straight from outer space. 

The one Shiro could only assume was Lance's mother was the first of the family to stand from where she had been sitting at the dining room table. 

"Lance has told us all about you," She stated, gesturing to an empty seat, "Why don't you sit and talk for a moment?" 

The tense mood only continued to grow as Shiro walked through the livingroom and into the dining space area, where he slowly took a seat on the vacant chair. He decided it was best to fill the silence quickly so that things didn't become any more tense than they already were. 

"I mean no harm by suddenly showing up here. I had assumed that the property had been completely vacated, but rest assured, I haven't taken anything from you." 

As if ignoring his statement completely, the mother said, "We have some questions we'd like to ask you."

Shiro was a touch dumbfound at first but he slowly nodded his head in response. "Go ahead."

This time, it was the father who spoke. "Lance told us that you're the pilot that crashed the plane in the forest. Is that true?"

"Yes, that's true." Shiro answered.

"Do you even know how much trouble you caused us?!" A different man suddenly bellowed. He was a young adult, looking to be in his mid-to-late twenties, "My kids nearly died because of that crash."

"Your kids?" Shiro asked, his eyes widening. It had never occurred to him that anybody had been around when he had crashed his plane. "Are they alright?"

"They're fine," A woman in the living room answered. Also a young adult. At her sides were two small children, a boy and a girl, watching the scene curiously while avoiding full eye contact. "When they saw a plane in the sky, they began to run toward it all of a sudden. Even after it crashed, they tried to follow it. We all left the house to look for them but it took so long to figure out where they had gone and..." her voice drifts off.

_So that's why the house was empty. Gotcha._

"Any type of noise attracts the dead like flies," The man continued to grumble, "You attracted a whole flock of them to our property, and endangered my kids in the process."

Shiro was at a loss for words, his eyes hard to peel away from the children, who clung to the woman with looks of guilt on their face. "My plane was crashing one way or another, I couldn't do much about that, but I am sorry for the trouble it caused you all. I would never intentionally endanger others, especially children."

"Yeah, he already told me that he didn't know that anybody lived here, and I believe him." Lance cut in. "Come on, give him a break, Marco. Everybody came out of this safe."

"Well, we're lucky, because we almost didn't, and now we've lost a lot of land." Marco retorted, taking a long sigh. He leaned against the wall with crossed arms. "I know you didn't mean to, I just-- Unless you have kids, you don't get how scary a close call like that is."

"I get it," Shiro answered, and quickly reiterated, "I don't have my own kids but I have a kid brother and he means the world to me. I get wanting to protect family. For what it's worth, I truly am sorry. I'll do whatever I can to help you clear out your land."

This time, a different young man spoke. Shiro would later learn that his name was Luis. "That's all fine and dandy but there's way too many of them. It's just not possible to clear the land. We'll have to move and find a new place again."

The room fell into a somber silence at this revelation. Even Lance, who seemed to always have something to say, was staring down at his hands, fingers tightly locked together.

"How bad is it? I can't imagine a rural area being that populated, even by dead."

"There has to be at least twenty of them," Luis responded, "Maybe even more."

"That's it?" Shiro asked, receiving him several dumbfounded stares, "I can clear that for you, no problem. It's certainly nothing to move over."

"We couldn't ask you to do something that dangerous for us." Lance's mother spoke up.

"My co-pilot and I cleared an entire hotel of the dead- double digits don't scare me. If it's my fault that they're here than I'll give you a hand, but, I do want to ask one small favour in return-" Nobody replied to Shiro, so he continued to speak, "After I've cleared your field, I'd like to borrow one of your cars. I'm travelling to Altea, and it would take me ages on foot, but with a vehicle, I could-"

"No way," Luis interrupted, "In this day and age, we can't just be giving stuff away like that. It's not like we even asked you to do this for us."

"Wait, lets think this over," Marco said to Luis in a calm tone, then he turned to Shiro, "You really think you could clear it? All on your own?"

"Without a trace of doubt in my mind." Shiro firmly responded.

"What weapons would you need?"

"Anything that doesn't make too much noise."

"Would a baseball bat do the trick?"

"Hey, don't go offering up my baseball bat." Luis cut in, giving Marco a side eye. Marco quickly laughed, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Come on, it's the most disposable weapon we've got. Say this guy is all talk- we don't want to lose one of our guns."

"Fair enough, I guess."

"Don't worry about it, I'll have your baseball bat back to you in no time." Shiro said confidently.

"Lets see what you've got, then," Marco stated, standing from his seat. As if it were his cue to do so, Lance jumped up from his seat as well.

"I'll go along and give him a hand!" Lance exclaimed excitedly, receiving a mix of laughter and cold stares from his family.

"Lance, no. I'm not letting you go out there on that-- that suicide mission." His mother stated firmly while shaking her head. "We'll all be staying in the house where we're safe."

"I'm the best shot here, I could help him clear the lot twice as fast. Plus my gun has that new silencer on it, so it won't even attract any new one-"

"I said no, and that's final. Mr. Shirogane will be doing this on his own to prove to us that we can trust him with one of our vehicles."

Lance's glance danced between his mother and Shiro, as if he were hoping that Shiro would jump to his defense. But Shiro didn't know what to say, and simply gave an apologetic look in return. Lance, after all, was just a kid, around the age of his own younger brother, and he wasn't eager to see him put into danger either.

"Fine." Lance said, a little too easily. He turned on his heels and made a beeline for the stairs, where other members of the family had already begun to head to in anticipation of what could potentially become a horrific afternoon.

Marco and Luis were both standing at that point, waiting as the rest of the family left the room. Their mother begged them to be careful one last time before she headed off, and then, the three were alone. 

"So," Shiro said, his posture pin-straight as he stood, "Where do we begin?"

* * *

Within the hour, Shiro found himself standing in the middle of the McClains open field with nothing but a baseball bat to defend himself. Luis and Marco had driven him to the middle of the field, where the bulk of the dead were roaming in a pack, and then waited for him to fully exit the vehicle before they drove off again, leaving him to his own devices. 

Shiro looked all around himself, doing a quick mental calculation in his mind of how many dead were wandering as they followed the direction of the car, the movement having caught their attention. It was hard to be certain, but there were around twenty, as Luis had predicted. 

_Deep breath. One. Two._

He steadied his grip on the bat, holding it at the ready in front of his body, and twitched his fingers until he got a good feel for it. 

The flock of dead were slow moving ones- meaning that they'd been dead for some time already. Those were the easy types to incapacitate, the decomposition of the body wearing down on it's ability to fight back, unlike the fresh dead who moved with just as much agility as the living- sometimes more so, until their bodies gave out just the same. 

But Shiro knew better than to think that he had any sort of advantage in the situation. Even one slow movement, one false step, could cost him his life. He needed to be careful. 

With that in mind, he swung his bat at the slowest moving corpse, one that practically dragged itself at the back of the herd. The hit was hard, causing blood to splatter all over the grass, and coated the tip of his bat. Shiro was careful to make sure that his hands didn't get wet and slippery. 

By then, the other dead had heard the noise and turned to face Shiro, suddenly moving at a quicker pace at the sight of fresh flesh. Shiro steadied his balance, taking a few steps back, and then, he began to swing at lightning speed, clubbing the first corpses to come near him. 

After the tenth hit, Shiro felt a deplete in his stamina. His breath had gotten heavier, and his arm was beginning to lock up. To give himself some time, he jogged a short distance into the field, and allowed the dead to slowly follow behind him so that he could steady his breath before they had caught up. He wiped bits of blood and sweat from his hands onto his pants and re-gripped the bat, ready to continue his rampage through the field. 

Luckily for him, the remaining dead moved slowly, likely having been dead for days, maybe even weeks. It didn't take him long to strike the rest down. 

Except for the final one. 

It was a fresher corpse, his skin a grey-white. His cheekbones were just beginning to sink in, making his short beard appear much longer than it truly was. 

He was still wearing his pilot's uniform. His name tag, still pinned neatly to his chest, read: 

**"Samuel Holt."**

* * *

**Apocalypse Day 191.**

* * *

"We finally made it," Shiro breathed heavily, his body slumped into the pilots seat, gripping half onto the wheel and half onto his stomach as he caught his breath. Both he and Sam, who sat in the chair beside him, were coated in the blood and guts of the fallen dead.

Sam was sweating something fierce, dabbing at his dampened temples with a handkerchief. 

"I wasn't so sure for a minute there. We... We really cut it close, huh, Sam?"

Sam didn't reply. He began to curl up into himself, a tight grip on his chest as he struggled, with no avail, to catch his breath.

"Sam?" Shiro finally looked over, his face instantly sinking. He knew immediately it was more than fatigue. Sam was having a heart attack. "Sam, are you alright?"

A sickening sound filled the cockpit as Sam began to wretch deeply from the back of his throat, sweat tricking down his face and onto his clothes. Shiro rushed to his side and put his hands on his shoulders. "Come on, Sam, breathe. It's okay, I'm right here. Just breathe."

Sam's shortness of breath only became worse, his face contorting into several expressions of pain, each more horrifying than the last. He fell from his seat, and into Shiro's grasp, who then set him gently onto the cockpit floor. 

"Come on, Sam, stay with me," Shiro begged quietly, "We're so close, come on. Your family is waiting for you." 

Sam's movements slowed until eventually he did not move at all. Shiro pressed his hands against the man's chest, and attempted to revive him via compression's. "Sam, come on. You're okay. You've got this. Please! Sam!" 

No matter how much Shiro pleaded, no matter how much he attempted to revive Sam, nothing worked. Moments later, Sam's eyes opened again and he sat back up. Only now, he wasn't the Sam that Shiro knew. 

Shiro's blood ran cold and he swallowed back, "No..." 

Fresh dead were not only the most dangerous to encounter, they were also the most chilling. They still looked the same as the living, and they moved just as quickly. After all, they had no time to decompose yet. As such, Sam was quick to get back onto his feet, his teeth grinding in anticipation of his new-found hunger for flesh. 

Shiro stood, taking a cautious step back, but he knew already that he didn't have it in his heart to kill a lifelong friend, even if he was, technically speaking, already dead. 

Sam didn't hesitate to lurch forward, a vicious grunt building up from the back of his throat as he charged towards Shiro. He was caught at the shoulders by Shiro's tight grip, and was held away from the man at an arms width. Sam reached his own hands forward, gripping at Shiro's upper arms in an attempt to hold him in place while he continued to snap his jaw forward. 

The intensity of Sam's hunger soon became too much to bare, his teeth clasping only inches away from Shiro's face. Shiro struggled to fight against him, eventually managing to muster the strength to lift a leg and firmly place his foot on Sam's chest where he then kicked as hard as he could manage to, sending Sam flying to the back of the cockpit. 

He landed to the ground with a harsh thud, and stirred around for a moment in an attempt to find his footing. In the meantime, Shiro knew that time was limited for him to find a way to restrain Sam safely without causing himself any harm. The seatbelts would require too much force to rip out, and there was no string on hand. Sam was beginning to stand again, limiting Shiro's time by a large margin. 

With no other last-minute plan to save him, Shiro untied his belt and tore it from his pants. The next time Sam came leaping at him, he dodged and grabbed him from behind, fastening the belt around his arms, and secured it tightly to his body. Sam struggled for release, but he was no longer a match for the living. Shiro led him out the cockpit's door, and quickly shut it behind him. As he watched Sam tumble to the ground, unable to stand again, he felt a strong pang of guilt. But he knew that there was nothing more that he could do.

* * *

**Present Day.**

* * *

There Sam was again. Arms still fastened beneath Shiro's belt, where the skin could be seen decaying at a quicker rate than the rest of him. He had likely slipped out of a door in the plane after the crash had happened, and then followed the crowd of dead to the McClain's property.

Even still, Shiro didn't think he had the heart to deliver the final blow to Sam. They had worked together for years, even gone on vacations with each others families, and had too long of a history for Shiro to see him as anything other than human. To see him in his current state was like a dagger to the chest. Shiro's eyebrows sunk along with his heart, his grip on the bat loosening at his side, until it was almost ready to drop.

"Sam," Shiro's voice was a soft whisper, as he watched the animalistic clicking of Sam's jaw, "I'm so sorry. I...I couldn't do anything to save you."

Sam mindlessly lurched in Shiro's direct, his jaw narrowly missing his shoulder. Shiro was too numb to jump back, though his natural instincts weren't letting him freeze up just yet. Sam jumped forward again, but this time, his action was suddenly cut short. A bullet to his head sent him hurling to the ground instead, splashing into a pool of blood from the fellow fallen dead. 

Shiro quickly glanced behind him to catch sight of Lance, his shoulders heaving with deep breaths, a gun with a long silencer still drawn out in front of him. He slowly lowered it when he met Shiro's gaze, still catching his breath from his long dash over.

"He was your friend, wasn't he?" Lance asked, "I never miss a shot so I figured I'd help you get that one over with quickly."

"Thanks, kid," was all Shiro can manage to say at the moment, the sight still fresh in his mind, Sam's blood still fresh on his clothes.

"You're welcome, adult."

Shortly behind Lance were Luis and Marco in their car, which came to a quick halt. The front doors flung open, and both brothers came running towards Lance. 

"What're you thinking?! Mom told you not to come out here!" Luis barked in a mix of anger and worry.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Marco chimed in. "Hurry up and get in the car!"

"It's fine now." Shiro quickly interrupted, "They're all taken care of, thanks to Lance's help. He really saved me there."

A wide grin broke out onto Lance's face at Shiro's comment. "Uh-huh! See? Told you guys!"

"Seriously?" Marco asked, eyes widened as he finally took a moment to scan over the area. Sure enough, Shiro's words were true. No dead had been left standing. "I've gotta hand it to you, then. I'm really impressed with both of you."

Shiro took a step forward and extended the baseball bat towards Luis, "I believe this is yours."

Taking a look at the bloodied weapon, Luis grimaced and shook his head, "Nah, it's all yours now. You earned it."

"You earned this, too." Marco said, holding up the keys to his car. He tossed them over, and Shiro caught them in his free hand. "I had my doubts but you're an alright guy."

"Thanks," Shiro said, rolling the car keys around in his fingers. He was officially one step closer to being home. "I'll be out of your hair in no time at all."

"Wait, you can't leave yet!" Lance cut in, "You haven't eaten in days, right? Stay for dinner tonight so you don't pass out before you get to where you're going."

"I couldn't impose like that." Shiro replied, though his stomach was certainly empty- his only meal in ages having been his tomato gorge two days prior.

"The kid's right, you gotta eat." Marco said, not giving Shiro much of a choice. "Stay for dinner, get your old clothes cleaned, and then you can be on your way."

Before Shiro could reply, Lance smiled victoriously, "So it's settled! Come on, lets get back to the house and tell everybody about this!"

Shiro watched as Lance began an excited dash in the direction of his home, rushing right passed the vehicle and straight into the field without a care. His brothers gave each other a look, shaking their heads with a knowing laugh.

Shiro thought two things to himself. 

One, that the world was awfully cruel. 

And two, that seeing the high-spirits of a child unbroken by harsh reality, somehow, made it a little easier to endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far, and please don't forget to share your thoughts with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this far, and don't forget to let me know what you're thinking! ^^


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